Thursday, 10 November 2016


i just finished working when i went outside and saw how beautiful it was. a clear sky covered in perfect blue, it reminded me of this sight being his favorite. the strong breeze gently caressed my skin, but the cold it brought to me was compensated by the glaring heat from the sun. i walked home with 'to build a home' blasting in my ears, on repeat. it was splendid.

and i'd usually feel the urge to write whenever i'm immersed in my emotions. today, surprisingly, good emotions in me evoked the urge to write. i asked him to give me a word. 'pandas', he said. oh well, i've actually never write about animals. but i'd take it.

so, pandas.

blacks and whites. big, round pairs of black eyes. putting it that way, it sounds like a human's characteristics as well.

but let's focus on blacks and whites. the classics. people say pictures in b&w capture the souls. but whenever i see you in b&w, why does endless void become the only thing i see. deep, in the abyss, you're hiding.

and that pair of black eyes. you see, they say the eyes are the window to your soul. but how heartbreaking, every time i look into your eyes, my reflection is the only thing i see. why don't you wanna let me in?

pandas. they're endangered.
our feelings, are they the same as well?

Saturday, 5 November 2016


it was a very pleasant day. i woke up at 8.10am, just in time to make it to my 8.30am class. diyana and i walked giddily; sleepy yet quite happy, though we complained the weather's too cold that morning.

we parted ways after the class ended. diyana made her way to work, and i made my way to my sign language class. counting minutes; i couldn't wait to see her again at 2pm when my work shift starts.

i was feeling quite lonely in my lab so i texted naqib and adlan, wondering if any of them were in campus. always alone most of the time, but oddly this morning i wanted a company. they were in class. soon after, i got a call from naqib, he was searching for diyana. i told him she's working. it was strange because he sounded as if he was crying, but i somehow made myself believe that he was probably having a runny nose due to the cold.

i texted diyana seconds after that, telling her that naqib searched for her and he sounded as if he's crying. i remember typing, 'WHAT IS HAPPENING'. i got no reply. i continued doing my work.

after i was done with my lab hours, i walked to work. i've always enjoyed the 20 minutes walk to my work place. the weather was splendid today. a rush of cold but with sun glaring intensely. it's a nice mixture of ice and fire. i felt content.

i arrived half an hour early, so i sat on the bench outside the building. surrendering myself to the hot son. i remember recording the sun on my insta story with the caption, 'long time no see'. again, i felt so content. i took out my laptop, placing it on my lap. i was planning to continue my essay.

also, at that time, i was texting nabil. i remember i was just about to ask him, 'have you lost someone you loved in your life?', when suddenly i got the text from maisarah saying that a dear friend of mine has passed away. dumbfounded. astounded. surprised. i couldn't believe it. i kept asking if it's a joke.

it's not.

i remember myself making sense of the whole scenario from this morning;

naqib calling me and sounding like he's crying
diyana not replying my text
my sudden urge to ask nabil if he'd lose someone
the text from maisarah

and i swear, i have never ever felt that way before. i hastily closed my laptop, picking up my stuffs, running to go inside the building to see diyana, while calling naqib to ask if this is all a joke. he answered within seconds.  and he told me the truth. he told me everything that happened. my legs went limp and i fell on the bench, with tears running silently.

'but qib, he's still so young.. how can he already leave'

'ajal, izz', his voice as rough as it could be. i cried. and in that instant, i know, everyone's grieving.

i said goodbye to him and ran inside the building. i was at the door, looking at diyana making sandwiches alone by herself. i was unsure of what to say, what to do. my mind unconsciously made me walk to her. she noticed me standing besides her, she looked me in the eyes, and we both just cried again. no words could verbalize how we felt.

my supervisor, candace, watched us from the front store. i know she didn't know what to do, seeing us cried. but we both didn't wanna go back and dwell in our sadness. 'hang in there', she said before she left. i told them i wanted to go to the toilet, but in actuality i ran outside and called nadiah. i swore in my heart that if she picked up my call, she's my forever. she's always been there for me since day 1, no matter what.

she did pick up the call, and i cried again. i cried, and cried, and cried. i asked her why him. i asked her why did he has to die. i told her he was younger than me. i told her he was so kind. it's unfair. it is unfair.

i cried until no tears could come out. nad listened and listened. then i went inside, put up my strong face for diyana. i need to be strong for her. she's hurting more than me. they were so close to each other. i cheered up. i persevered, for diyana.

diyana told me that if i didn't text her about naqib calling me, she wouldn't have called him back. she wouldn't have known about it if i didn't text her. each piece of today's occurrences started to fall into place. one thing connecting to another.

we both tried to be strong for the few hours left we had to work. when it's time to go back, diyana broke down again. i told her, just cry. i'll be here. no matter when, no matter what, just cry. don't keep it in. she cried the whole time we were walking home.

we all went to pay respect to you today at the masjid, taufiq. i saw people crying, grieving, regardless of religions. and it breaks my heart. tonight, you brought us all together. tonight, we grieved. but you, we will always always always remember.

rest happily on the other side, taufiq.

[nov 4, 2016]

Wednesday, 2 November 2016

scar stories

if you have seen my instagram stories you’d notice that i hurt myself quite frequently in the month of october, which poignantly, is my birth month. i cut my finger pretty bad at work, but it already healed now.

last weekend, in the absolute rush for malaysian night; trying to iron my hijab and talking to arissa on the phone at the same time, i accidentally burned my hand while trying to pick up the mighty hot iron without looking at it. well, i know. serves me right.

it didn’t hurt that much at first but girl i was wrong. a few hours later, that’s probably the only thing i kept uttering throughout the night. pain.

i’ve always been an admirer of scars somehow. they intrigued me. i like knowing there are stories behind every scar. back in high school, sometimes i’d deliberately scrape my hands with sharp things just to have a long, bad-ass looking scar. omg i know, i sound like a cracked girl. 

but it’s true. i do have a thing with these kinds of things. but never once i thought of it as an act of self-harming. i didn’t do it because i was feeling depressed or anything. i just like having scars sometimes. and if you’re close to me, you’d know how i am crazy with the idea of getting injected while most people loath it with all their hearts.

being the youngest kid, i still like to, you know, tell people that i got hurt and then listen to them consoling me. well, some of them. hahaha

nad: “the scar will heal over the years”
mai, diyana, and nina: “scars are beautiful”
sheera: “scars are survival stories”
boys: “nanti jatuh saham nak kahwin!”

well thanks, guys. i appreciate the attention you all gave to me. <3